


Burning Red

by LunaHufflepuff



Category: Enola Holmes (2020)
Genre: F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Is this a songfic in 2020?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaHufflepuff/pseuds/LunaHufflepuff
Summary: For as long as Enola could remember, the world around her had been full of color. But no, it wasn't like the colors of flowers in a garden or her mother’s carefully made paintings. For Enola, all the emotions she had ever felt brought a color along with them.She was on a train to London when a suitcase fell in front of her, promptly revealing a boy who brought along with him a swirl of colors along with a heap load of trouble.(In which Enola has synesthesia and Viscount Tewksbury, Marquess of Basilwether brings a swirl of colors she never would have expected)
Relationships: Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Burning Red

**Author's Note:**

> So, is this me writing a songfic in 2020? Sort of. I've gotten back into (my guilty pleasure) Taylor Swift and when I listened to Red, inspiration struck. These two are just too cute and I couldn't resist.
> 
> Also, for those of you that don't know, Psychology Today defined synesthesia as "a neurological condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway (for example, hearing) leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway (such as vision)". Basically, some people with synesthesia feel music, see tastes, or in the case of this story, Enola sees emotions as colors. So disclaimer: I do not have synesthesia so this is based off of articles I read about it.
> 
> Lastly, this story is dedicated to my (ex) roommate who pushed me to write more for this pairing because I'm obsessed.

For as long as Enola could remember, the world around her had been full of color. But no, it wasn't like the colors of flowers in a garden or her mother’s carefully made paintings. For Enola, all the emotions she had ever felt brought a color along with them.

There was  _ lilac _ for the surprise she felt when she and her mother would make science experiments. The sudden explosions of the mixing of chemicals brought with them a burst of that bright  _ lilac _ .

There was a warm  _ yellow _ hue to the air for joy when Enola won a game of chess or shared jokes with her mother over a cup of tea.

There was _dark_ _purple_ like the angry bruises she would get when mad that her mother had once again bested her in their sparring in matches.

And then, of course, there was the warm  _ pink _ that was in almost all her memories. It was a  _ pink _ like the chrysanthemums her mother would paint and it came with the love she felt for her mother. There were moments when Enola could concentrate hard enough that she remembered tendrils of  _ pink _ that came along with staring at a pair of shoes that were accompanied by a man’s voice that she could only deduce to be her father’s.

But then, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, she had woken up with her mother gone and suddenly the world was  _ grey _ from loneliness with a sudden burst of  _ lilac _ from surprise and tendrils of  _ white _ from confusion.

Of course from there, things had picked up as her brothers came along, bringing with them  _ orange _ annoyance and, as Mycroft’s intentions became clear, an angry  _ purple _ . Yet soon enough, Enola’s mind had spurred into action as everything took a tone of  _ brown _ like the worn covers of the books in Ferndell Hall.

The game was afoot.

In no time Enola was on a train, heading to London, when a suitcase fell in front of her, promptly revealing a boy who brought along with him a swirl of colors along with a heap load of trouble.

There had been a sudden burst of  _ lilac _ as the boy had climbed out of the suitcase.

“ _ I’m Viscount Tewksbury, the Marquess of Basilwether. _ ”

Soon enough the  _ lilac _ had turned  _ orange _ as the boy’s predicament became clear. Tendrils of  _ lime green _ fear danced across the corner of her eye as she connected the man with the brown bowler hat to the young Marquess before her and the danger he could be putting her into. 

“ _ He’s checking every carriage. You have to help me. _ ”

The warm  _ brown _ that came when she was concentrating took over as she dismissed  _ Viscount Tewksbury _ . Enola assured herself it was for the best. She needed to find her mother and she was dearly missing the soft  _ pink _ of love she felt for her. Yet as the man with the brown bowler hat walked past her and she heard shouting, the  _ lime green _ she had been desperately trying to push past began to creep back in. 

Before she knew it, Enola was hitting the man with the brown bowler hat in the head and leading the annoying young Marquess as far away as they could get from the crime scene.

Jumping off the train brought a bright burst of fear  _ green _ that momentarily blended in with the grass the pair was sent hurtling towards. As her breath evened out and the Marquess’ whining increased, the  _ green _ gave away to an  _ orange _ annoyance that persisted throughout the day.

_ “Agaricus lanipes. The Princess.” _

A faint  _ lilac _ bloomed as Enola was silently impressed by Tewksbury’s apparent expertise in plants, not that she would tell  _ him _ that. Later on, another burst of  _ lilac _ would appear as she desperately tried to conceal her surprise at the fact that Tewksbury’s mushrooms were apparently not  _ that _ bad tasting.

_ “Who taught you how to sharpen a knife like that?” _

A faint  _ pink _ peeked into the corner of her vision as Enola remembered her mother teaching her the technique.

Over the course of their mealーEnola supposed it was a  _ bit _ of a stretch to call it a mealーthe  _ orange _ annoyance she had been feeling toward Tewksbury had slowly faded and the early hint of  _ yellow _ was creeping in the more she talked to the young Marquess.

Once they had finished eating, the pair had begun to talk and Enola was careful not to reveal too much about her past. Instead she listened as Tewksbury spoke in a soft tone.

_ “My life seemed to flash before me. I was just about to take my seat in the House of Lords and I had these ideas about how we might progress the estate. But my family was set on me joining the army and then going overseas, just like my uncle.” _

_ “And I realized I was scared. Scared I would hate every second for the rest of my life.” _

Enola couldn’t help but stare at the young Marquess as he spoke and she found herself empathizing with his words. Had she not felt the same way when Mycroft and Miss Harrison began to lay out her future before her eyes? They spoke of marriage and children and things that Enola dreaded to imagine for herself. Yes, she too had felt her life flash before her eyes as she feared she would come to hate every second of her life.

_ “Don’t I sound pathetic?” _

Enola found herself staring into Tewksbury’s warm brown eyes as she quickly disagreed. A flash of  _ lilac _ appeared as she realized perhaps she did have quite a bit in common with the young Marquess sat next to her.

Of course then he had to ruin it by asking questions that she was not prepared to answer, nor did she want to. Instead, Enola forced herself to turn down his invitation to stay together once they reached London. She had to find her mother, and allowing herself to get tangled up with the runaway Marquess was sure to get her into trouble.

_ “So this is where we part?” _

The ride to London had taken most of the morning of the following day and when the carriage they had hitched a ride on came to a stop in the busy streets of London, Enola knew it was time to get off. Truth be told, the hints of  _ yellow _ had continued during their journey and Enola had come to enjoy several of the moments she shared with Tewskbury. But now that she was in London, she had a task to complete. And  _ oh how she missed _ the  _ pink _ that her mother brought.

_ “Then, thank you, Enola Holmes, for helping me here.” _

She watched with a small smile as the carriage continued to carry Tewksbury further into London and Enola already found herself missing the  _ orange _ that dimmed to  _ yellow _ that the young Marquess brought.

The next few days had gone by quickly as Enola learned more about her mother as well as discovering the danger Tewskbury was in.

_ “What are you doing here?” _

Among the busy market place of Covent Garden with the colorful flowers and waves of people, the world took on a joyous  _ yellow _ tone as Enola looked at Tewksbury. He was now dressed in tan pants with a long grey overcoat, the improvised haircut she had given him neatly framing his angular face. Enola couldn’t help but smile at how at home Tewksbury seemed amongst the baskets of flowers.

_ “What’s made you like me more?” _

Within minutes of talking with the young Marquess, the pair fell into an easy rhythm as if no time and craziness had passed since last seeing each other. A tendril of color flew across her vision, starting  _ orange _ but quickly turning  _ yellow _ , a combination that Enola was steadily coming to associate with Tewksbury.

_ “I missed you, Enola Holmes.” _

Something in Enola’s chest fluttered at his words but she quickly pushed it aside, the  _ brown _ concentration taking over as she reminded herself of the danger Tewksburyーand, by extension, herselfーwere currently facing.

_ “Why do you keep old newspapers, Enola Holmes?” _

A soft  _ pink _ blossomed as Enola explained her attempts at communicating with her mother through ciphers, a fact that she had previously hidden from Tewksbury. Yet as she continued, the  _ pink _ turned into  _ blue _ as sadness overcame her. For the first time, she was putting into words the insecurity she felt at the possibility that her mother might not want to be found.

_ “Still, at least we’ve got each other.” _

Tewksbury spoke in a soft voice and the fluttering in her chest that she felt earlier returned. Tewksbury’s brown eyes held a soft warmth and she could feel herself getting lost in them. In the edges of her vision a flurry of colors appeared:  _ lilac _ surprise,  _ white _ confusion,  _ green _ fear, and a flash of a color her emotions had never shown beforeー

Enola forced herself to look away, the sudden colors and emotions overwhelming her senses.  _ Focus _ , she reminded herself. If she was going to help save Tewskbury, the only color she could make room for was the warm  _ brown _ that came from concentrating.

Enola swiftly left the room, allowing Tewksbury to follow her as she gathered water to make tea for them, meanwhile explaining what she had figured out about the attempts on his life.

_ “Why would anyone want me dead?” _

Enola gave Tewksbury an incredulous look, figuring it was obvious. His personality, ridiculous hair, silly smile, as well as his land, estate, title and seat. In trying to figure out Tewksbury’s location, the clues had all been there and Enola was able to breeze through her deduction as to why the assassin was sent to kill him. In the back of her mind, Enola marveled at how easy it felt to talk to Tewksbury, even as they spoke about something so dire.

Suddenly, a tendril of  _ lime green _ appeared out of the corner of her eye at the same time as the door creaked and the kettle began to whistle, instantly spurring Enola into action. There had been a several points in her life where her colorful emotions had allowed Enola to detect trouble seconds before the rest of her senses did, and, as Enola picked up the kettle and swung it straight into Inspector Lestrade’s chest, she was silently thankful that the colors had once again saved her. From there, Enola and Tewksbury ran back to her room, tendrils of bright  _ green _ fear dancing across her vision.

_ “I don’t want to leave you, Enola.” _

While pushing the dresser up against the door, Enola was also mentally pushing the  _ green _ fear away, slowly overrunning it with  _ brown _ concentration. Enola could hear the truth in his words yet she urged him to flee, thus ensuring his safety. As she glanced again at the now empty window,  _ turquoise _ relief along with a  _ blue _ sadness appeared where Tewksbury had been just seconds before.

_ “Delivery from Ferndell Hall!” _

Enola frowned at the large wicker basket luggage that the two porters had placed in her sparsely decorated room at Miss Harrison’s finishing school.  _ Brown _ concentration along with  _ white _ confusion danced around the luggage as Enola scrambled to figure out what Mycroft could possibly be sending her.

Pushing the top of the luggage open, the dull  _ grey _ tone the world had taken on for the past two days gave way to a bright  _ yellow _ as Enola caught sight of Tewksbury slowly standing up from his hiding spot in the wicker luggage. Without a second thought, Enola lunged herself at Tewksbury, pulling the taller boy into a hug. A flurry of colors overcame her vision as she held on tight to the young Marquess.  _ Lilac _ surprise,  _ white _ confusion,  _ turquoise _ relief, and  _ yellow _ joy all danced across her vision.

_ “You’re supposed to be helping me out, not getting in with me.” _

A wide smile spread across Enola’s face, the air now full of that joyous  _ yellow _ . Sudden  _ white _ confusion hit her as her mind raced to put together why and how Tewksbury had snuck into her dormitory inside of a piece of luggage.

_ “So, I thought we’d go out the same way I came in.” _

As Tewksbury stepped out of the luggage, Enola suddenly realized just how close they had been standing and a light  _ magenta _ appeared from embarrassment. Enola quickly busied herself, focusing on what plan they could come up with as a form of escape.

_ “I was given express instructions that this be opened in private. By my employer, miss.” _

_ “And who might that be?” _

_ “Mycroft Holmes.” _

Enola couldn’t help but smile as  _ lilac _ surprise mixed with  _ yellow _ , silently impressed by Tewksbury’s quick thinking. She supposed she had perhaps not been giving him enough credit.

_ “Can you actually drive this thing?” _

Enola’s heart was racing as she and Tewksbury raced out of the school and onto Miss Harrison’s motor car. The world had now taken on a  _ yellow _ tone as she realized she was now free, with Tewksbury at her side. A burst of  _ turquoise _ relief appeared as she ripped the white collar off her school issued uniform and let out a whoop of joy, even as they nearly crashed into a neatly trimmed wall of bushes. Next to her, Tewksbury chuckled as he held on tightly to the motor car’s seat.

_ “Now, let’s head back to London and find a proper hiding place.” _

The joyous  _ yellow _ that streaked along to the country road’s path suddenly faded as Enola pulled the motor car to a stop in front of a crossroads, the situation at hand fully hitting her. The smile slipped off her face as  _ brown _ concentration replaced the  _ yellow _ , her mind racing.

Enola could faintly hear Tewksbury speaking but her mother’s voice suddenly echoed in her head, a memory from long ago surfacing. “ _ There will come a time when you have to make a hard choice,” _ Her mother had told her, the memory bringing with it a soft  _ pink _ swirled with warm  _ brown _ , “ _ And, in that moment, you will discover what mettle you truly have, and what you’re prepared to risk, for what matters.” _

The game was afoot.

_ “This is a terrible idea. The closer we get, the worse this idea becomes.” _

A voice in the back of her mind silently agreed, bringing with it a tendril of _ lime green _ fear. Taking a deep breath, Enola pushed back the  _ green _ fear, replacing it with a concentrating  _ brown _ as she reminded herself of what was at stake. Enola knew they needed to trust each other if they were going to succeed in catching Tewksbury’s uncle, and she implored the young marquess to do so.

_ “You don’t know how to embroider?” _

The swirl of  _ orange _ mixed with  _ yellow _ that tended to accompany Tewksbury flew across her vision. Even then, Enola knew that this was Tewksbury’s way of saying that he agreed.

What happened next brought with it a swirl of colors unlike Enola had ever known before.

There was  _ white _ confusion as the pair walked into the seemingly deserted mansion of the Basilwether estate. There was  _ brown _ concentration as she went through everything she knew of the case as they made their way further into the mansion.

Then there was the overwhelmingly intense  _ lime green  _ fear as the gun shot rang out, narrowly missing where they had been standing just moments before. Enola and Tewksbury ran through Basilwether’s halls, dodging flying bullets as they hid behind a statue. After a minute, a plan formulated in Enola’s head as she hastily attempted to push away the green fear.

The following few minutes continued to be hazy for Enola, even as she strained to remember years later. She remembered lunging onto Linthorn’s back in an attempt to catch him off guard; she remembered being thrown onto the ground and having the back end of a rifle slam into her temple, causing her vision to go blurry at the impact; and she remembered barely being able to open her eyes as she watched Linthorn push Tewksbury to his knees and begin strangling him. 

Throughout it all, the world had taken on an overwhelmingly bright tone of  _ lime green _ fear unlike anything she had ever experienced before. There was an angry  _ purple _ along with concentration  _ brown _ mixed in but they were drowned out by the suffocating  _ green _ .

She did remember taking several deep breaths before gathering all the courage she could muster as she attacked Linthorn, knocking him over and causing his head to slam against a decoration on the floor.

_ “Grandmother?” _

Tewksbury’s voice sounded hoarse as they both slowly stood up to properly look at the approaching Dowager Marchioness Basilwether.

The  _ turquoise _ relief that had momentarily appeared was now quickly fading, being instead replaced by  _ white _ confusion mixing with  _ brown _ concentration. Enola’s mind was racing as she scrambled to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

As the Dowager moved steadily closer, Enola’s heart began to race,  _ lime green _ fear circling the old woman. On seeing the former Marchioness pick up the discarded rifle, the remaining  _ white _ confusion suddenly evaporated. Enola’s jaw slacked as words began to form in her mouthー

_ Boom! _

The sound of the gunshot brought the brightest explosion of  _ lime green _ fear, the color searing her vision for a split second as she let out a strangled yell.

Tewksbury’s body slammed back, hitting the ground with a loud thud upon impact. The noise spurred Enola into as she took the rifle from the Dowager’s trembling hands. As soon as the object was safely out of her reach, Enola tossed it aside.

The world was suddenly an overwhelmingly vivid sadness  _ blue _ as the tears began to fall. Rushing back to the young Marquess’ side, Enola let out a strangled sound that was somewhere between his name and a sob.

Enola all but laid herself on top of Tewksbury’s unmoving body, her vision swimming with tears and a  _ blue _ sadness like she had never known. Tewksbury couldn’t be gone, not so soon after they had found each other again.

Enola continued to sob as she begged Tewksbury to wake up. She could already feel herself drowning in the  _ blue _ and even as  _ lime green _ fear threatened to push through, the  _ blue _ drowned it out. As Tewksbury continued to be unmoving, Enola laid her head against his shoulder and laced her hand through his own still one.

Suddenly, Tewksbury’s fingers curled around her own as his shallow breathing reached her ears. Slowly sitting up, Enola looked up in time to see Tewksbury’s eyes flickering open.

The sadness  _ blue _ suddenly gave way to  _ lilac _ surprise as Tewksbury sluggishly sat up, his eyes coming into focus.

_ “I’m not entirely an idiot, you know.” _

Tewksbury’s hoarse voice sounded like music to her ears as he opened his jacket to reveal a piece of armor from a fallen statue, the object that had saved his life.

At once,  _ turquoise _ relief circled Tewksbury, accompanied by yellow joy. Tewksbury’s trademark  _ orange _ that shifts into  _ yellow _ flew across her vision but Enola paid it no mind.

_ “You were made to fight.” _

A sudden fluttering in her stomach appeared as Tewksbury carefully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. As his hand paused just next to her ear, Enola had to stop herself from leaning in his touch. If she wasn’t so preoccupied taking in Tewksbury’s handsome face as  _ yellow _ joy flew around him, Enola might have stopped to wonder why this was. Instead, Enola leaned forward, pulling the young Marquess into a tight hug that he instantly returned.

After a few moments, Tewksbury let go and slowly stood up, with Enola following suit.

_ “Your time is over.” _

Making eye contact with Tewksbury through the gates in the side entrance of the Palace of Westminster caused a swirl of colors to burst before Enola’s eyes.

The first that appeared was  _ turquoise _ relief that she had made it in time to see him before the House of Lords had gone into session.

The second was  _ lilac _ surprise at seeing Tewksbury in a well tailored black suit with his hair carefully combed and a top hat in hand. Enola realized that this was the first time she was seeing him dressed in clothes befitting of his station and she would be lying if she didn’t admit that he looked quite handsome in them.

As the two came face to face with only the metal gates separating them, a  _ yellow _ hue settled in the air.

_ “Arguably, you always had to bow. You just… chose not to.” _

A tendril of  _ orange _ that shifted into  _ yellow _ flew across her vision, and Enola watched it fondly go past, the combination now so distinctly…  _ Tewksbury. _

Enola tired picturing herself bowing to Tewksbury but the ridiculous image simply brought a smile to her face.

_ “And what if it was I that asked you to stay?” _

Enola’s breath suddenly caught in her throat,  _ lilac _ surprise appearing like a puff of smoke. Tewksbury’s voice was soft and the implications of his words hung heavy in the air.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it, to go stay for an extended period of time with Tewksbury? To spend morning conversing over breakfast and evenings reading together in the library? To stay and eventually get married to Tewksbury, ensuring a comfortable life as a Marchioness?

_ No _ , she couldn’t. 

Doing that would probably mean giving up her newfound passion of becoming a detective and finding her mother. Enola turned down his offer as kindly as she could, the words feeling heavy in her mouth.

Tewksbury looked equally put off by his response and Enola could see tears starting to form in his eyes. Not baring to see Tewksbury so distressed, Enola tentatively placed her hand on top of his that was holding the gate. The contact made a fluttering erupt in her chest and Tewksbury instantly looked up.

_ “How will I… when will I see you again?” _

The vulnerable tone in his voice caused a flutter of  _ lilac _ surprise along with  _ blue _ sadness to appear. Enola gave him a smile, assuring him that he wasn’t rid of her  _ yet _ .

Her words made Tewksbury smile, his eyes softening. He paused for a second, as if thinking through his next course of action, before slowly taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. The kiss lasted a second yet the contact brought a bright  _ yellow _ along with… red?

_ Red. _

In Enola’s sixteen years old of life, her emotions had never before shown her  _ red _ . It was like the soft  _ pink _ that her mother brought but… intenser. Enola had to physically stop herself from stumbling, the warmth of Tewksbury’s hand along with the new color nearly overwhelming her senses. 

_ I could go for that again, _ a voice in the back of her mind whispered, imploring her to take up Tewksbury on his offer to stay. For a split second, Enola considered it, wishing to have more moments like that and more chances to experience the newly discovered  _ red _ . Yet she quickly dismissed it, reminding herself of all the opportunities that her newfound freedom offered. No, surely she could find that  _ red _ again, right?

After a few moments, Enola forced herself to pull her hand out of Tewksbury’s, giving him a smile. A sudden  _ blue _ appeared as she moved away from the gates, her heart suddenly feeling heavy. Enola paused for a second, allowing herself one last look at Tewksbury before she joined the neverending crowds of London.

Enola had hoped that time would lessen the memory of that newfound  _ red _ that Tewksbury had shown her. Yet days had turned into weeks and the weeks into months and still she wasn’t rid of it.

Her new profession as detective allowed concentration  _ brown _ to show up for stretches of time as she solved mysteries that required discretion and detailed oriented sleuthing for noblewomen. Within a few months, word had spread of Enola’s detective work and she now had a large network of women from England’s elite that desired her subtle detective skills.

Despite this, the first few weeks after saying goodbye to Tewksbury had caused the air to be tinted with sadness  _ blue _ , even mixing with  _ brown _ concentration. Steadily, the  _ blue _ faded to a lonely  _ grey _ . Sure, there were times where a mystery allowed the  _ grey _ to give way to  _ brown _ as her mind became all consumed with solving the puzzles placed before her. Yet that  _ grey _ continued to be a permanence in her vision.

Then there were the sudden moments where the  _ red _ would appear.

_ Red _ materialized when Enola read the newspaper and an article would mention the Marquess of Basilwhether’s contribution to a bill in the House of Lords;  _ red _ came when Enola walked through the flower market in Covent Garden and remembered Tewksbury tending to a basket of flowers with care; and  _ red _ emerged when Enola walked by the Palace of Westminster and she wondered if Tewksbury was in there.

It was over a year since Enola had last seen Tewksbury that a visitor had come to her lodgings with dire news.

_ “My son… Tewksbury is missing.” _

The new Dowager Marchioness of Basilwether’s words had brought the world to a grinding halt, the sitting room erupting a swirl of colors.

_ Lilac  _ surprise at first hearing the news; white confusion as she processed the words;  _ lime green _ fear as her mind raced with possibilities; and finally  _ brown _ concentration as she listened to Tewksbury’s mother describe Tewksbury’s disappearance from their London home two days ago. Apparently, she had initially gone to Scotland Yard but as they continued to be unsuccessful, she had decided to come to a trusted source instead.

Enola perhaps would have been touched by the noblewoman’s words if her sight was not full of  _ brown _ concentration as she fished out a notebook from her bag and began writing down all of the Dowager Marchioness’ words.

It wasn’t until Enola had fully written down every detail Lady Basilwether said that another thought occurred to her: how  _ had _ Tewksbury’s mother found her?

If the Dowager Marchioness had not been taught her whole life to be a proper Lady, she perhaps would have blushed.

_ “As I was looking for clues in my son’s office I came across a sheet of paper with your name and this address written on it. I think he has known where you have been for a while, he’s just been… waiting for you to come to him first.” _

A familiar tendril of  _ orange _ annoyance fading to  _ yellow _ flew past her eyes and Enola couldn’t help but smile softly at Lady Basilwether’s words. Of course Tewksbury was keeping an eye out for her and yet she could not find it in herself to be mad at how considerate he had been.

A faint burst of  _ red _ appeared.

_ “He is in the parlour, miss.” _

The next few days had gone by quickly as Enola worked relentlessly to solve Tewksbury’s disappearance. After a day had gone by with little success, Enola had given in and gone to Sherlock to ask for assistance.

That interaction had begun with  _ orange _ annoyance and  _ lime green _ fear, yet she had been pleasantly surprised when he had graciously agreed to help with her endeavor.

Two days after finding Sherlock, the two Holmes’ along with several members of Scotland Yard had split into two groups, Enola following one lead while Sherlock and Inspector Lestrade followed another,  _ brown _ concentration and  _ lime green _ fear filling the air as they parted ways.

Now, Enola was walking into Tewksbury’s family’s London house, elated to learn that Sherlock and Inspector Lestrade’s lead had led them to find Tewksbury. As it turns out, he was being held captive as a group of criminals were planning to demand a ransom in exchange for the Marquess’ release.

Enola took a deep breath before stepping into the lavishly decorated parlour. The floors were made of sleek wood and the walls covered in flowery wallpaper with several paintings and tapestries hanging from them. A large window looked out onto the London street with various plants lining the window sill. On the opposite wall of the window was a grand looking fireplace with plush red sofas and chairs facing it. And sat on said sofas was the new Dowager Marchioness and her tired looking son, Tewksbury.

_ “Enola!” _

As Tewksbury caught sight of her and quickly got to his feet, a swirl of colors appeared.

There was  _ turquoise _ relief at seeing Tewksbury relatively unharmed, if not a bit tired looking; there was a faint  _ orange _ annoyance at the fact that Sherlock and Lestrade had been the ones to find and save Tewksbury; and finally a bright  _ yellow _ at seeing Tewksbury for the first time in over a year  _ (fourteen months and twelve days, a voice in the back of her mind supplied) _ .

Enola swiftly rushed forward and without a second thought, pulled Tewksbury into a hug that he quickly reciprocated.

The joyous  _ yellow _ spread, even appearing as Enola closed her eyes and pressed her face against Tewksbury’s chest. She had never realized just how much taller Tewksbury was than her, being nearly a head taller. Yet as his longer arms wrapped around her smaller frame, couldn’t help but think it felt right.

After several seconds the two pulled away but continued to stand close to each other as Enola looked into his warm brown eyes.

_ “Enola Holmes, I’ve missedー” _

Enola wasn’t entirely sure what possessed her to do what she did next. 

Perhaps it was the sudden adrenaline coursing through her body at seeing Tewksbury for the first time in over a year; perhaps it was the  _ yellow _ swirling around her; or perhaps it was her getting caught up in the moment. Whatever the reason, Enola stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips onto Tewksbury’s.

_ Red. _

_ Red _ spread across her vision as Tewksbury paused for a second before returning her kiss. A warm spread across her body as Tewksbury placed a hand against her cheek with a gentleness that only he could manage. After what was somewhere between a few seconds and a lifetime (Enola wouldn’t have minded either) the pair broke apart, matching smiles spreading across their faces.

Tewksbury continued to hold her in his arms, and the  _ red _ circling around them. Enola wasn’t sure if she was feeling a bit lightheaded from the bright color spinning around them or from the continued proximity to Tewksbury.

After a few seconds, Tewksbury let out a quiet laugh before speaking.

_ “Would it be too soon to say that I think I might be in love with you?” _

Tewksbury’s tone was vulnerable and his words caused the circling  _ red _ to come to a halt as a thought suddenly occurred to Enola.

A soft  _ pink _ had been ever present for as long as Enola could remember. The  _ pink _ was for the love she felt for her mother, the color like the flowers she would paint and it was a source of comfort. Now her mother was gone from her life and in the past year,  _ red _ appeared whenever she was reminded of Tewksbury.

Now, as Enola looked into Tewksbury’s eyes, she realized why the color felt so comforting.  _ Red _ was like the  _ pink _ love for her mother but darker, more intense.

Love.

Yes, Enola realized, loving Tewksbury was red; burning red.

“No, I don’t think it’s too soon at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify, Tewksbury's mother is referred to as the "new Dowager Marchioness of Basilwether" because, historically speaking, she would be referred to by her husband's higher nobility rank (Marquess), meaning that the movie credits calling her Lady Tewksbury is historically incorrect.
> 
> Also, if you are interested in learning more about synesthesia, here's a quick article by Psychology Today: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/synesthesia


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